Not So Wordless Wednesday

The National Famine Monument located in Murisk, County Mayo was designed by the artist John Behan. “The Coffin Ship” commemorates the Famine of the 1840s. Skeletons symbolize the many emigrants who died in coffin ships upon leaving Ireland. Croagh Patrick sits in the background. Annual summits commemorate The Famine.

The next closest land mass is Newfoundland. This is where my cousin, Elaine Dollen Clark’s, maternal Irish ancestors arrived, survived and thrived. Please visit her blog, Flynn’s Hill, at flynnshill.blogspot.com.

God Bless!

Reflections

My blog has lain in a state of dormancy these past few summer months. Pressing needs to be outside in the beauty of Chicago’s short-lived summer weather demanded fulfillment. The truth is that I felt the need to take full advantage of our nice days and evenings.

Summer offered up the opportunity for travel to Ireland with a group of twenty women, mostly unknown.  Together we headed off to the Connemara Mountains of western Ireland.

This was a special group of ladies who were united in the love of meditation, yoga and the author, John O’Donoghue. They introduced me to the Celtic spirituality of Ireland. I must say that the spirit and hospitality of the Irish people goes beyond description.

The Delphi Lodge became our “Home Away From Home” for the week. Built in 1830 The Delphi was originally home to a landed English family and has a shaded past as the English owners turned back starving people during the potato famine. Aware of the travesty, the current owners work to acknowledge the past and honor the poor people of Ireland.

We walked the roads that the poor and hungry trudged and visited the National Famine Memorial. It was there I learned of the Choctaw Indian kindness. The Choctaw Tribe had it’s own history of displacement and suffering. Their 1831 journey was called “The Trail of Tears.”

Through understanding the suffering of the Irish people, the Choctaw acted by sending $170 to the Irish people. So great was that gift, that the Irish continue to remember and honor the Choctaw Tribe to this very day.

One can read about history, but never really comprehend what occurred nor feel the impact on humanity unless one has suffered the same. This story resonated with me in several ways.

I first think about my husband’s Irish immigrant ancestors: William Dooley, Ellen Hart, Patrick Egan and Margaret Harrington. These are strong Irish people who knew this kind of suffering. These four ancestors made the Irish potato famine real for me. While I have yet to locate their Irish origins and their personal stories, I have learned that the Irish all share the same story.

My second consideration is this. How can I, one small person, solve our world’s problems? I can’t. But I can follow the lead of the Choctaw. My small contribution just might make a world of difference to someone in a difficult situation, as did the Choctaw gift.

Lot S26, Block 45, Section S

The above location marks the final resting place of William and Ellen Dooley. This couple is the patriarch and matriarch of the large Dooley Clan of Chicago, Illinois and beyond.

Having studied this couple’s three census records (1870, 1880 and 1900) and their death certificates for months, I wondered could William and Ellen be “THE IRISH IMMIGRANTS?” Dare I go out on the limb and declare them so?

Today’s research took me to Calvary Cemetery situated along the shore of Lake Michigan. Established in 1859, Calvary Cemetery is the final resting place for many Dooley ancestors. You may visit William Dooley, Ellen Dooley, Elizabeth Dooley, David Dooley and Stephen C. Dooley at Lot S26, Block 45, Section S.The gravestone reports the death dates of William, Ellen, Elizabeth and David that match their respective death certificates. Stephen C. Dooley was interred in the same location but without a headstone. I neglected to look for Stephen’s wife, Anna; which means another trip on another day.

While I have yet to locate the immigration records for William and Ellen, I believe I can say with a degree of certainty that William and Ellen Dooley were this family’s “Irish Immigrants.” William and Ellen do indeed belong to this Dooley Clan of Chicago and beyond. They rest in eternity along side two of their sons, David and Stephen, whose lives are chronicled even today by living descendants.

Please review the census. I cannot post death records as Family Search licenses them, but census and death records combined with the family plot in Calvary Cemetery make the familial connection.

William’s death certificate reports his birthplace as Ireland. He passed away 12 May 1900 at the age of 71. The certificate also reports the number of years lived in Illinois to be 30, however, that number is difficult to read and is my best guess.

Ellen Dooley’s death certificate reports her birthplace as Ireland as well. She passed away 29 Oct 1905 at the age of 62, Her death certificate clearly states that she lived in Illinois 54 years; which means she immigrated at the young age of eight years.

Now to find the immigration records. I am getting close to “jumping the pond” and searching for William and Ellen’s Irish origins.

As you will see in 1870, William and Ellen had a son, Mike. Sadly, little Mike did not make it to the 1880 census. In reviewing Dooley interments of Calvary Cemetery, I was not able to locate a Michael Dooley whose dates fit for this little boy.

You may click on the images for a large view.

Dooley Talk

Do you have Caller ID? I do for the simple reason that it helps me screen calls. I tend to avoid answering 800 phone numbers and occasionally cellular calls especially this election year for I am not a fan of political robo calls.

For some reason this morning I decided to answer an unknown cellular phone call. I made a good move in answering the call for it was my husband’s uncle. We had been meaning to connect for most of last year and the moment had finally arrived. Uncle Dave Dooley wanted to meet and have a Dooley Talk. He is up in years and wants to learn of his Irish ancestors’ origin now.

Our meeting place was a local Irish Pub for there is not better place to dine and talk Dooley than an Irish Pub. Much to our disappointment, the pub was closed on Mondays. Not a problem, we chose a charming French bistro down the street.

Uncle Dave treated me to lunch and I agreed to organize the Dooley information for him. He wants to hire an Irish genealogist to help him locate his Irish ancestors and living family. Finding his Irish roots is very important to him.

I think this might be my chance to try my hand at the business of genealogy. I plan to treat his request as if he was a client! It will be good practice to see if I can cut my teeth in the professional world of genealogy.

Our plan is set. I will organize Dooley family information. We will then visit the Irish Heritage Center of Chicago. Uncle Dave was active in the organization and in the past he took part in Chicago’s annual St Patrick’s Day Parade. He plans on introducing me to the Irish librarian and get busy searching.

I have finally found my partner in crime. Oops! I mean my partner in Dooley Family history!

 

Linda

Everyone Is Irish On St. Patrick’s Day

I would like to share an Irish tale.

Many years ago, my cousin, Michael, married a beautiful girl named Elaine who was of Italian descent. They were to be married by Elaine’s elderly Italian uncle, Father Tognucchi. I arrived at Church early, settled into a pew and patiently waited for Elaine’s elderly uncle to perform the wedding mass. I was looking forward to listening to his beautiful Italian accent. I love Italian accents.

With Father Tognucchi’s first words, I realized that this elderly, Italian priest did not have an Italian accent. He spoke with an Irish brogue! I spent the remainder of the wedding and my trip home pondering how could this be.

My soon-to-be husband and I attended their wedding reception. On the drive to Elaine and Mike’s wedding reception, I told him the story of Elaine’s elderly, Italian uncle, Father Tognuchhi. I explained how he was originally from Italy but spoke with an Irish brogue.

My future husband’s immediate response was, “Oh my gosh, I know him! Father Tony was a frequent guest in my home growing up.” As we enter the reception, there sat Father Tognucchi.  My future husband quickly approached Father Tognucchi and introduced himself. There was a heartfelt reunion with big smiles that led to a pay phone because cellular phones were not yet invented. Father Tony and my now father-in-law had a happy reunion via telephone.

How did an elderly priest from Italy learn to speak English with an Irish brogue?  And . . . how did this elderly priest from Italy become friends with an Irish-Italian Chicagoan?

During World War II, Father Tony lived in India and learned to speak English from an Irish missionary or monk. My father-in-law was also stationed in India during World War II. He was assigned to the signal corps and it is there he met Father Tony. I trust they spent a great deal of time in Church together, but I think they may have shared many adventures while stationed together in India. The two became fast friends.

I hope you enjoyed my Irish tale that involved an Italian priest and an Irish-Italian Chicagoan.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Linda